


Submit Your Blaster

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain Phasma, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:32:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime is fascinated by a talking space warrior toy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submit Your Blaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radiofreeamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiofreeamy/gifts), [JustAGirl24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAGirl24/gifts), [downlookingup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downlookingup/gifts), [QuizzicalQuinnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/gifts), [meteor69](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=meteor69), [Sophie_Of_Tarth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophie_Of_Tarth/gifts), [All the ladies at JaimeBrienne.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+ladies+at+JaimeBrienne.com), [natesen215](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natesen215/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by posts on [Jaime Brienne Online](http://w11.zetaboards.com/Jaime_x_Brienne/index/) about the new talking Captain Phasma, found  
> [here](https://twitter.com/davidpopineau/status/639561203300237312).
> 
> Special thanks to [QuizzicalQuinnia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=quizzicalquinnia%E2%80%9D) for the beta!

Jaime stared at the toy space warrior Tyrion had gotten him, his brow furrowed and his eyes glinting. He’d placed it on the kitchen table while he ate breakfast. He would not hit the button to make it talk again. He would _not_.  It only said three things anyway.

He hit the button.

“Move, to your ships now,” the woman’s voice commanded.

He bit his lip and hit the button again.

“On my command,” she ordered.

That was good. He liked that, but it was the last line that really mattered. He hit the button for a third time.

“Submit your blaster for inspection,” she demanded.

 _Godsdammit_. How was it even possible for him to be turned on by a disembodied voice? From a children’s _toy_? He looked at the space warrior again. Well, it wasn’t _actually_ a children’s toy. It was much too complicated for that. Too many small pieces that could come off and poke or prod or choke a child. Jaime fiddled with the helmet. The space warrior didn’t look like a woman. It didn’t have the expected molded breast plate you so often saw in sci-fi and fantasy films. Tyrion had given him the action figure to entertain him. It was a prototype from Stark Novelties and Toys. Lannister Corp. was considering investing. Jaime had been completely caught off guard when he hit the button and heard that the voice emanating from the warrior was distinctly feminine. And definitely sexy. And almost… _familiar._

He stopped himself from hitting the button again. He would not let himself get aroused from a faceless, probably computer-generated, toy space warrior voice. He scratched his palm. Maybe listening to just _one_ more cycle wouldn’t hurt.

“Fuck,” he said out loud to no one.

He grabbed his bag and headed for the gym. Once there, he went straight for the treadmill. There was only one free, the one next to the tall, ugly, mannish woman who always seemed to use whatever machine or weight set he wanted. They’d taken to having a near-silent competition. Or at least he thought of it that way. He’d try to guess which piece of equipment she intended to use next and get to it before her. She’d scowl at him. He’d grin. Their conversations consisted of things like, “Done yet?” and “Two more sets.”

Jaime powered up his treadmill, ignoring the wench. He saw her turn to him, never breaking stride. He grinned and increased his speed. He’d show her. He heard her huff beside him before she hit the controls to match his pace.

Jaime let himself get into a zone as he ran. The wench’s steps were even with his. He closed his eyes and just let himself feel his muscles, enjoy the workout.

 _On my command_.

Damn, that voice. He could hear it in his head. He’d heard it in his dreams even. The woman above him, her hands on his chest as he squeezed her muscled thighs and she lowered herself down on him. _Submit your blaster for inspection_. He tried to remember her face, but all he could do was hear her, feel her, even smell her. What the fuck was wrong with him? He could smell her even now.

The woman beside him was slowing her pace, starting her cool down. Good. He wanted to run in peace anyway. He opened his eyes and looked at their reflections in the glass window opposite. Maybe if he looked at her ugly red face whatever was happening in his shorts would calm down. _Fucking hells._ How long were her legs anyway?

\--

Tyrion wasn’t quite sure he understood his brother’s request. “What?”

“The voice. The voice on that space warrior action figure you gave me last week. Who is it?” Jaime asked from the chair opposite Tyrion’s desk.

Tyrion shrugged. “How the fuck would I know?”

“I need you to find out.”

Tyrion raised a brow and asked the obvious question, “Why?”

Jaime ground his teeth. That was unusual. It wasn’t like Jaime to care about anything related to the business really. “Because I need to know whose voice that is. It’s driving me crazy.”

 _That_ Tyrion could believe. There were few things that roused his brother to action. Right now though, Jaime looked a bit, well more than a bit, frazzled. He tie was askew; his hair was mussed. He looked as handsome as ever, but not nearly as slick as usual.

Tyrion leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Jaime, do you have a _thing_ for the space warrior?”

Jaime shifted in his chair. “I do not have a thing for a _toy_ ,” he said dismissively. “I just recognize the voice and can’t place it.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “I’ll call Stark and see what I can find out. In the meantime, don’t you have something else to bitch about?”

Jaime narrowed his eyes and launched into a tirade about the gym. _Again._ Tyrion only caught snatches of his rant.

“…ridiculously tall, and her hair looks like she chopped it with nail scissors…”

Tyrion pondered getting an artisanal haircut. Perhaps that would help control his curls. He nodded absently at his brother.

“…those eyes do not belong in a face like that…completely annoying…”

Tyrion blinked his own eyes at Jaime who was worked up in a right good snit. Tyrion stifled his yawn.

“…stupidly long and covered in a revolting amount of freckles, and I most definitely do not dream about how they could wrap around my waist, twice!” Jaime ended in a huff.

Tyrion took in his brother’s disheveled appearance and wild eyes. “You need to get laid, don’t you?”

Jaime rubbed a hand over his face. “I really, really do. Get me her number.”

\--

Jaime glared at the blonde giant working her triceps with the free weights, sixty pound curls. Her form was perfect. He could do that. Easy. He watched her muscles tense and relax. She caught him staring at her in the mirror and scowled at him. He smirked back and let his eyes deliberately travel down her long, bare, muscled legs. She turned a violent shade of red.

Jaime’s text message alert went off just as he was about to work on his biceps. It was a series of texts from Tyrion.

_She’s apparently really shy and not the prettiest woman in the world, but she’s young and single and ‘super nice’ according to her assistant, Pod._

_She’s been working for Stark for 2 years in their design division and she only voiced the prototype because their actress sounded like a 3-pack a day smoker._

Jaime texted back. _HER NAME AND NUMBER??_

Tyrion responded with a series of emojis followed by, _Brienne Tarth, 867-5309._ Jaime grinned. Brienne Tarth. Maybe he could get her to say _it_ over the phone. _Submit your blaster for inspection._ Just imagining it caused a stirring in his shorts. He felt like a school boy who’d just discovered he could rub one out. He needed to distract himself, get himself in the right mindset before he called her.

Jaime looked up again to see the blonde sitting on the weight bench, her eyes casting about for a spotter. He grinned. Oh, he’d spot her. He could definitely spot her. He walked over and made the offer with a raised brow. She huffed and nodded.

“How much?” he asked.

“Two-fifty,” she responded.

He raised both brows at that. She glared at him. He put the weights on. She lay back on the bench and got in position.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

She did four sets of five reps and sat up, stretching her unbelievably long neck. Was she part giraffe?

He tapped her shoulder and asked, “My turn?”

She nodded and stood up to get in position.

He grinned. “Two-sixty.”

She rolled her eyes and added the extra weight. Jaime lay back in position. Her legs looked even longer from this position and if she’d move just a bit closer, he could see up her shorts. He coughed and re-positioned his legs. “Tell me when,” he said.

“On my command,” she responded.

It was like a shot straight down his spine to his already half-hard cock. Jaime sat up. “What did you just say?”

She blushed. “I said now is fine.”

“No, you didn’t. You said something else. Say it again.” He leaned closer to her, his face just inches from her hip.

Her eyes shifted away from him. “Why?”

“Say it. _Say it_ , wench.”

“My name is _Brienne,_ and I said ‘On my command,’” she snapped at him.

“Oh _gods_ ,” Jaime leaned back and looked her up and down, from her disastrous hair to her nonexistent breasts with the oddly pert nipples all the way to her thickly muscled thighs and calves and back up again. “It’s _you._ ”

She moved to cover herself as if she were naked, which only made sense as that’s how he was picturing her. “What’s me?”

“It’s your voice,” he accused.

She furrowed her brow. “Of course I speak with my own voice.”

He picked up his phone from the floor beside him and dialed the number Tyrion had sent him. Her phone rang.

She looked at him as he held his phone up to her. “How did you get my number?”

 _Her_. It was her all along. He should have known from his dreams. Those legs. That skin. He grinned at her and grabbed her hand, threading his fingers through hers. She gaped at him. “Come on, wench, we are going to finish our workouts, then shower, and then I’m taking you out for dinner and a movie.”

She tried to tug her hand away. “ _Brienne_. And why would I go on a date with you? You’re smug and arrogant and kind of an ass.”

“You’ll go on a date with me because I’ve asked so nicely, and I catch you watching me when you think I’m not looking. You think I’m hot.”

She turned yet another wicked shade of red. “I do not.”

“And you’re a terrible liar. We are going to go out tonight and tomorrow, and on our third date, you’re going to ask me to submit my blaster for your inspection.”

“You have the warrior prototype?” she asked, eyes wide. “You work for Lannister Corp.?”

“I’m Jaime Lannister and I’ve been listening to that prototype for days. Your voice really is too sexy for a child’s toy, and if those lines aren’t designed to turn a man on…” he let his eyes travel over her body again.

“It’s not really a children’s toy,” she argued, “it’s more for adults because of all the detachable parts…” She lost the thread of her argument as he released her hand and ran his index finger down the top of her bare thigh. She inhaled sharply.

“So, dinner tonight?” He looked up at her.

Her eyes darkened as they met his. She nodded. “And you’ll submit your blaster for inspection when I tell you to.”


End file.
